


Give Me a Museum & I'll Fill It With Our Love

by sweeterthankarma



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, art museum date, soft girlfriends in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 05:31:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14206125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: “Seems chill, I’d bang him,” Eleanor says while staring up at a portrait of an eighteenth century, heavily bearded man.“Eleanor, please, I’m trying to educate you,” Tahani says, smoothing her dress and giving her a pointed look. Eleanor smiles up at her, bright and innocent, and it’s all softness underneath Tahani’s irritated facade when she meets the gaze of those blue eyes.





	Give Me a Museum & I'll Fill It With Our Love

**Author's Note:**

> Altered title comes from a quote from Pablo Picasso. You'd think an art related fic would open up so many possibilities for pun related titles, yet I still ended up resorting to Google.

    “Whatever you want, babe,” Eleanor had said when Tahani had proposed the idea of going to an art museum on Saturday morning, feigning excitement and syrupy sweetness, and she honestly didn’t hate the idea but she didn’t  _ love _ it. They hadn’t been dating for that long, only about five months, but that was long for Eleanor given her past relationship endeavors — and fails— and long enough for Tahani to know the smaller girl had probably never stepped voluntarily into an art gallery, if at all, in her life. Still, she was eager to show her girlfriend all the pieces she was passionate about and the ones that had framed her childhood home, crafting her outlook on the world and the arts; it was her week to choose a date spot, and she’d been desperate for something a little classier than the bars Eleanor had been taking her to lately. The crowded, stuffy, loud environment did nothing for Tahani, but it did seem to bring Eleanor to life in a way she doesn’t always get the privilege of seeing. Besides, Eleanor let strangers buy them drinks, even if they were men just looking for a hookup partner, and Tahani couldn’t complain. It was even more rewarding when they’d leave, hand in hand, with desperate, wishing eyes on them all the way out the door.

    “Seems chill, I’d bang him,” Eleanor says while staring up at a portrait of an eighteenth century, heavily bearded man. It must be the thirtieth time of the hour she’s made some kind of crude comment, and Tahani sighs. She’s starting to think this wasn’t the best idea. The security guard keeps shifting his gaze over to them, and she thinks she may have to end their relationship if Eleanor somehow manages to get herself kicked out. 

    “Eleanor, please, I’m trying to educate you,” Tahani says, smoothing her dress and giving her a pointed look. Eleanor smiles up at her, bright and innocent, and it’s all softness underneath Tahani’s irritated facade when she meets the gaze of those blue eyes.

    “Sorry, hot stuff. I like it here, I do, but it’s so quiet and serious and I feel like some comedy is needed,” Eleanor says while walking towards the next canvas.

    “You always do,” Tahani replies, “and it is endearing.”

Eleanor smiles, leaning up for a kiss, and she relishes in the way Tahani bends to reach her, brushing a hand against her shoulder and grinning against her lips. 

Tahani thinks briefly about what her parents would think if they could see her now, happy and wearing Converse sneakers (Eleanor persuaded her to try them after her favorite pair of flats broke, and she was surprised, and not exactly thrilled, to find that she liked them) and kissing a  _ woman  _ who was her  _ girlfriend  _ in an art museum she used to go to as a child. Eleanor’s hand comes up to her waist and she wonders why she’s thinking of her parents in a time like this, and then someone clears their throat behind them and they turn, awkwardly, facing a middle-aged tourist with a camera in hand, peering past them at the painting. Tahani mutters her apologies while Eleanor chuckles and meanders on in the gallery, and a strange, childlike rush of adrenaline runs through her, happy and excited and in love. 

It hits her suddenly— the realization that she  _ loves  _ this dorky, quippy, opinionated, bright, beautiful woman in front of her who had aggravated her for months before she was finally asked out...and now she loves her. She’s never really loved anyone else, if she’s being completely honest; she’s experienced friendship and lust and professional acquaintanceship time and time again, but this kind of love is constant and honest and makes her feel whole, so that’s how she knows that it’s exactly that— love.

    “You coming?” Eleanor asks over her shoulder, and Tahani shuffles to catch up with her. She’s surprised when Eleanor takes a moment to analyze the painting, her face still and introspective, and then reaches into her back pocket to pull out her phone and capture a photo.

    “You like it, El?” Tahani asks, small smile on her face. She nods in response, head tipped, a little surprised at herself, and as she works to get the right shot Tahani takes her own phone out, snapping a picture of the sight before her.  _ Her piece of art looking at a piece of art, _ she thinks cheesily. 

    “Maybe I’ll get a little keychain with this one on it at the gift shop,” Eleanor says once she’s satisfied with her documentation. “We could get matching ones!”

Tahani grins, and unable to help herself, she grabs her hand, just  _ needing _ to be touching her. She never expected happiness, not like this— vibrant and giddy and palpable— and now that she has it she never wants to let go, literally. 

    “That would be wonderful,” she says, with a kiss to the back of Eleanor’s hand.

    “Aww, are you getting soft on me, Al-Jamil?” the smaller girl asks with a tilt of her head, and Tahani laughs but she’s swooning too, thinks she may be forever.

    “Just a little,” she responds, and then the words are out of her mouth and she’s confessing before she can think better of it: “I’ve just never been somewhere I love, with someone I love. It’s a bit surreal, you know, because I never thought I could be this happy.”

Eleanor’s face softens, serious and affected, and she takes Tahani’s other hand, moving closer. “You love me?” she repeats, and she suddenly seems vulnerable too, surprised almost. Tahani doesn’t look flustered, she doesn’t scramble to take back her words; she stands tall, honest, and she’s still glowing, inside and out, because the words she said are true and she’s owning it.

    “Of course I do,” she responds, shifting her grip and interlacing her fingers with Eleanor’s. “How could I not? Haven’t I made it obvious?” 

    “Baby,” Eleanor muses, quiet and reflective for a moment, before she lifts up on her toes and presses her lips to Tahani’s. People shuffle around them, someone mutters a complaint about people wasting their time coming to a museum if they’re just going to be horndogs, and Eleanor would laugh at the word “horndogs” but she’s too caught up, so overwhelmed and in love,  _ yes,  _ she’s in love too, and that’s all she cares about. She never thought she’d get this— a real love, not just one-sided attraction and hookups that end in sneaking out the backdoor when the other is asleep— but no, this is her life now, filled with happiness and better habits and a tall, gorgeous woman she gets to call her own. She’s loved, and she’s not afraid to love back. She always thought she’d run for the hills if she was ever confronted with something this good, sure it was a cruel joke or a mistake or something that wouldn’t last. But no, Tahani’s soft hand cradles her face and her kiss is slow, passionate, and honest, and she believes in this love with every ounce of her being.

When they break apart, they both let out short breaths, amazed and emotional and reeling, and Eleanor meets her eyes, earnest. 

    “I love you, too,” she says, desperate to say it back because she’s wanted to for awhile now but their relationship was new and scary, even after months, because it was  _ real  _ and she’s done a lot of things but she’s never been down this road before. 

    “Good,” Tahani replies, unable to keep the smile off her face as her fingers move to brush a strand of blonde hair behind Eleanor’s ear. “Because if you didn’t, that would make things really uncomfortable, especially because we have an audience.”

Eleanor chuckles as she tears her gaze away from Tahani to a crowd of kids that stand by the wall, looking barely older than thirteen, huddled in a group with their eyes on the two girls, whispering and giggling.

Eleanor’s too pleased to react, so she doesn’t shoot them a menacing glance or even make a snide jab like she might have a few months before.  _ Love has changed me,  _ she thinks briefly, and while her mind twists it around like a joke, it feels true and it feels good, and she’s a little surprised at the fact but also very much relieved. Her whole life had kind of felt like a struggle to find something to hold onto, to steady her and make her better because God knows she needed it. Her own self-reflection was more than required, and her progress is her own before it’s anyone else’s. She deserves that credit, she knows, and she’s still a bit of a greedy bitch, even now, so she gladly accepts it. Still, she can’t imagine she’d be even half as positive as she is now if she didn’t have such a beautiful soul to wake up next to and beg for pancakes every morning. 

Tahani beams down at her, watching her think, all sunshine smile and vanilla lipstick, and Eleanor’s more preoccupied with all that she entails than her own inner soul searching. She lifts up on her toes to kiss her again, and all she can think is how lucky she is to love someone who loves her.

    “I can’t believe you had any doubts,” Eleanor says, swinging her hand in hers as they move to the next exhibit. “I am like the definition of  _ whipped _ for you.”

Tahani laughs. “It’s been a long life of rejection, my dear,” she replies, and it should be a sad nod back to her parents and how poorly they failed her, but it lacks any bite. She just looks at Eleanor, eyes light and smile still faint on her lips, and how could she care that her family was never enough for her? After all, she’s found her own now. 

    “Not anymore,” Eleanor replies and squeezes her hand. “I’m about to buy you as many keychains as your heart desires.”

Tahani’s unoccupied hand flutters to her chest in mock awe. “Oh, Eleanor, you really are my soulmate.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, let me know! I definitely want to write more for The Good Place, it's one of my favorite shows and I find Tahani and Eleanor so enjoyable to write. While I ship them, I also ship Chidi and Eleanor as well (I rarely find a show where I can ship multiple people with one character but every relationship is just so wonderful so there's no way not to!) so if you have a prompt or request you think I could do justice with, feel free to leave a comment or swing by my Tumblr under the same username and send me it! :)


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